The Six Months Outtakes
by CassandraMcCord
Summary: A series of alternate and missing scenes from my existing story, Six Months.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi guys! Welcome to yet another series of one-shots; these are all based off of my existing story, Six Months. If you haven't read it and you like angst, read it! If you haven't read it, don't read these because they will make no sense.**

 **This is an alternative for chapter thirteen, in which the McCords' first night at home is different because Elizabeth is protective of Henry, seeing how tired he looks and taking care of him.**

As Elizabeth's security shut the front door of the McCord home behind them, she turned to survey her family. The kids looked okay, if a little shocked and nervous. But Henry...she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look so exhausted and worn. He was pale and tense, not to mention much thinner than he'd been the last time she'd seen him. That would take some time to remedy, but for now she'd have to start small. She squeezed his hand lightly and he glanced over at her, looking vaguely lost.

"What do we do now?" Jason asked.

"I think we all need to get some rest," Elizabeth answered.

"I'm not leaving Dad," Stevie said quickly, and Henry reached out to hug her, looking as if even the effort to do so was difficult. Elizabeth couldn't really blame her, but she knew that Henry would push himself to stay awake if the kids were around. She shook her head at Stevie.

"I understand that you want to stay with him, Stevie," she began. "I really do. But your dad has been through a lot and he needs to rest. I promise you, he's going to be here in the morning. You all have plenty of time to spend with Dad, but not tonight."

The kids all looked at one another; they all looked nervous, but some silent understanding seemed to exist there in the quiet. Alison was the one who spoke.

"Promise you'll be here in the morning?" she asked, looking at Henry. He nodded his head.

"I promise, Noodle," he said quietly. She moved forward to hug him and Elizabeth could have cried at the way her siblings followed suit, all three of them curling around Henry, surrounding him with love and affection as he let go of her hand to wrap his arms around their children. Elizabeth was so immensely proud of the three of them; they had all grown from the little children they'd been to these three incredible people. They seemed to understand, albeit reluctantly, that Henry needed to rest, and so they hesitantly said goodnight to him and headed up the stairs one by one.

"Alison," Elizabeth called softly, and her middle child looked back at her inquisitively.

"Come and get me if you need me, okay?" she said- after all, this was likely to be hardest for Alison, who hadn't slept alone in six months. Stevie, a couple of steps ahead of her sister, stopped and turned.

"Ali?" she asked. Her sister turned from Elizabeth to look at her. "Want to sleep with me?" she asked, and Alison nodded her head. Stevie shot Elizabeth a reassuring smile as she wrapped her arm around her little sister and Elizabeth mouthed 'thank you' as the two of them disappeared up the stairs. Once they were alone, Elizabeth turned to her husband, suddenly feeling vaguely nervous. It was a foreign feeling, this anxiousness that gnawed at her, and she tried very hard to push it aside. This was Henry- it wasn't like he was some stranger, and she told herself then that she had nothing to be nervous about. It didn't help much, but she was determined to push through it.

"Henry, you look exhausted," she said, running her thumb along his hand. He nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I guess I am."

"Come on," she said, tugging him toward the stairs. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

Upstairs, Henry looked around curiously. Elizabeth smiled ever so slightly.

"Well, I guess it turned out to be a good thing I didn't ever manage to get rid of your stuff," she remarked, hoping to lighten the mood. It seemed to have been the wrong thing to say, though, because a shadow passed over Henry's face as he swallowed hard and looked down at the floor.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked.

"I left you," he answered, his voice hollow. She sighed.

"Henry," she began, "it's okay. You're home, that's what matters."

Henry shook his head slightly, then looked up to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he said.

"I know," she answered. "It's okay." She squeezed his hand lightly and then let go, stepping into the closet. She glanced down at the clothes piled there and wished she had hung them back up. Now, with Henry already blaming himself, they just served as a reminder that things had not been good without him there. His eyes followed hers and landed on his clothing on the floor.

"I tried to-" she began, and sighed. "I tried to get rid of them. That's as far as I got."

Henry closed his eyes briefly, and then took a deep breath and went to the closet, where he began to pick up the clothing, piece by piece.

"Henry," Elizabeth began, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He shrugged her off, shaking his head.

"I need to do this," he insisted, and she sighed.

"Baby, you need to sleep. It can wait," she pleaded, but Henry shook his head.

"No, I need to fix this," he answered stubbornly.

"Fix what?" Elizabeth heard herself ask. It was a much more loaded question than one might think, and the weight of it was not lost on Henry. Elizabeth felt tears sting the backs of her eyes as she watched him scramble to replace the clothes, as if by putting all the clothes back on their hangers Henry could symbolically put their lives back together. She stayed quiet until a choked sob met her ears and then, she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't just stand by and watch him crumble.

"I just-" he began, but Elizabeth shook her head, kneeling next to him and tugging him toward her.

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay, Henry, let it go." He dropped the shirt he was holding and turned toward her in defeat; she ran her fingers through his hair as he dropped his head to her lap, and Elizabeth thought that her heart might actually, physically, break at the sight of him curled up on their closet floor, his shoulders shaking as he wrapped his fingers around the hem of the tee shirt she'd just changed into and cried.

"I know, darling," she soothed as she rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him. "I know. You're safe, Henry. It's over." He was trying to speak, but his words were almost entirely unintelligible. Elizabeth was catching about every third or fourth syllable; not nearly enough to make sense of what he was trying to say.

"Shh," she said. "It's alright, Henry. Just breathe. It's going to be okay."

"I have to fix it," he managed around his heartbreaking cries, something desperate in his voice as he looked up at her, starting to pull away.

"No," she replied. "No, Henry, you don't. Not tonight, baby. Hey, stop," she pleaded, catching him with a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back to face her. She met his gaze and he hesitated, so Elizabeth seized the moment. She rested her hand on his cheek, fingertips reaching to the hair at his temple, and brushed the pad of her thumb against the skin beneath his eye, dark with exhaustion and stress as she held eye contact.

"Henry," she breathed. "Baby, you don't have to fix anything. We're going to fix it, okay? But we're going to do it together. You don't have to do it alone, Henry. Alright? Let me help you. Please." He watched her for a moment and then leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as she blinked and tears slipped down her cheeks. His hand came up to her cheek, mirroring the way she was touching him, and his other hand found hers on her lap, tangling their fingers together as his palm pressed against her cheek and covered the tear that had fallen there.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," he whispered.

"No," she said. "It's okay. You're home, Henry. That's all I could ever ask for."

He nodded against her, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and took a breath- a breath of home, of lavender and strawberry, of his own clothing, of Elizabeth. Of everything he'd left behind with an aching heart six months earlier.

"Please let me help you, okay?" Elizabeth whispered. He nodded.

"Okay," he whispered, and she brushed a tear from his cheek with her thumb.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let's get you to bed, okay?"

He nodded and let her sort through his untouched drawer for some pajamas. Some ten minutes later, Henry had decided he was too exhausted to shower and had crawled into bed at Elizabeth's side. His whole body felt heavy, but he was still so on edge. He felt somehow alert and distant at once, and in spite of being incredibly tired, he wondered if he'd be able to fall asleep. Elizabeth seemed to sense that, too. She recalled him being like this when he'd returned from deployment as well, and tried to think back to how they'd handled it then. She reached out for Henry, and he turned toward her in the warm light of the bedside lamp.

"You haven't been sleeping?" she asked softly. He shook his head.

"Not really," he answered. She nodded.

"Close your eyes," she told him quietly, and then turned to cut the light. Henry couldn't see her in the dark, and he felt panic rise up inexplicably at that. He didn't even have to say it; Elizabeth realized it before he had a chance to articulate, and the light flooded the room once more.

"It's okay," she said. "We can keep the light on, alright?" He nodded silently and hesitated for a moment, closing his eyes. He didn't like that; she was right there, but he couldn't see her, and he couldn't feel her, and he couldn't help but be uncertain of her presence. His eyes opened again, and Elizabeth was still there, watching him with warm, ocean blue eyes. She looked tired, too, but fierce. He wanted to tell her to go to sleep, that he would be okay, but he didn't. He knew her well enough to know how that would go over.

"Come here," she whispered, a soft invitation that Henry could no more have resisted than will his heart to stop beating- not that he wanted to resist in the first place. He willingly shifted closer to her and his head ended up on her shoulder. They both seemed to take an inbreath at that, and Elizabeth fussed with the blankets for a moment, settling them around him, tucking him into bed against her as if he were a small child. It made him feel safe, that mother-instinct action that was a physical representation of _I'll take care of you_. She took his hand and wordlessly brought his palm to rest against her chest, where he could feel her heartbeat against him. He took a steadying breath, and exhaled, his eyes drifting closed.

"I'm here," she breathed, and kissed his forehead. "You can rest. You are not alone anymore, Henry."

 _Neither of us are._

It was the unspoken part of her assurances; Elizabeth, too, took a breath and exhaled. They faced one another, legs tangled together, with her heart beating against Henry's palm, and her fingers running soothingly through his hair. She spoke softly to him, nonsense that kept a steady stream of her voice in his consciousness. It had worked before, and it seemed to be working now. He just needed to know that he wasn't alone. That she was there with him. And as for Elizabeth, she would have talked all night if he'd needed her to.

"Henry?" she breathed a few minutes later, and when she got no answer, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, pausing to let her gratitude overwhelm her as she held him there in the quiet, warm light. And slowly, for the first time in six months, Elizabeth succumbed to sleep with Henry at her side.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A couple of you wanted the morning after the first outtake, and I had a prompt for 'Elizabeth wakes the morning after Henry's return and thinks at first that it's all been a dream' so here you have it :)**

Elizabeth rose very slowly to consciousness. Her eyes remained closed as her tired mind filtered through all of the information that was available to her.

 _Henry._

Her memories of the night before were fuzzy now in those early moments of awareness, and as Elizabeth reached her hand out tentatively, she met an empty sheet. She sighed. Of course. It had all been a dream. She should have known better than to hope for anything else, and yet she'd found herself hoping anyway. Now, without opening her eyes, she turned her face into the pillow. It had all felt very real, but here she was in the morning with an empty bed. She could hear running water in the bathroom, and assumed Alison must have already woken up. Tears rose to the surface against her eyelids and Elizabeth internally scolded herself for her etinal reaction; just a stupid dream, she told herself. A stupid, incredible dream where she'd gotten her husband back and been able to hold him in her arms again. She bit back a cry as she buried her face more deeply against the pillow. If she concentrated, she could almost smell the familiar, faint scent of Henry in the sheets. She pressed her face into her pillow and cried, hoping Alison wouldn't come out of the bathroom before she managed to calm herself.

Meanwhile, Henry stepped out of the bathroom as quietly as possible and glanced over at the bed. The sight that met him wrenched his heart and he sighed. Elizabeth was curled up on the bed, sobbing into her pillow. The night before, she'd been so strong for him, and now it was his turn. Henry moved forward with purpose, speaking her name softly as he did. Her head shot up and she looked at him wildly, as if his presence was entirely foreign to her. He hesitated, his footsteps faltering.

"Elizabeth?" he asked softly.

"Oh god, Henry," she sobbed, nearly doubling over with the force of the realization that it had not been a dream after all- Henry was standing right there in their bedroom, safe and sound and alive. He rushed forward and sat next to her, wrapping her up in his arms.

"Hey, shh," he soothed. "It's okay, babe. It's okay."

"Henry," she cried against his shoulder as she clung to him. He ran his hand over her bath soothingly.

"I'm right here, Elizabeth," he assured her. "I'm here."

"I woke up and- I thought- I thought it wasn't real, I though-"

"Okay, okay," Henry soothed, rocking her slightly back and forth. "I'm here," he told her softly, words brushing against her skin and soothing her anxious, exhausted mind. Every syllable he murmured talked her just a little bit farther off of her ledge. She wrapped her fingers in his shirt and he wrapped his arms around her a little bit more snugly.

"Baby, I'm right here," he said softly. "I'm home, Elizabeth. I'm not leaving you again, babe, okay? It's alright. You can breathe. Just breathe."

"I didn't- I thought it was all just a-" she stuttered.

"Oh, baby, no," he shushed her. "It's not a dream. I'm here. I've got you."

She was holding back; he could see it, feel it in the way her breath halted beneath his touch.

"Let go, darling," he mumbled against her hair, surrounding her with his body as he gently lowered them both back to the mattress. "It's early, the kids are still asleep. You can let go. I'm right here, and I've got you. You don't have to be so strong right now, Elizabeth. It's okay."

He coaxed her slowly down from the internal ledge she had worked herself onto, gently convincing her to drop the walls she'd been building for the last six months. They weren't all coming down in a day- or a week, or a month-, but as she clung to him and cried, trusting that he was going to hold her up and keep her safe, Henry was satisfied; it was a start. The walls would come down eventually. For now, this was enough.

"God, Henry," she breathed, and he kissed her head.

"I know," he said. "I know. It's okay."

"Don't ever-"

"I won't," he swore, before her sentence was even finished. "I'm never leaving you like that again, Elizabeth. Never again. I promise."

She buried her head against the crook of his neck and sobbed, releasing every emotion she'd built up for the last six months.

"I woke up and you were gone," she whispered. "So I thought-"

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, babe. It's alright. I'm here now, okay? I'm not leaving you again. I'm here."

Henry wondered how many times he would say those words again before it felt real to either of them, and guessed that the number would be high. He looked down at her and a mixture of affection and gratitude and regret washed over him. Slowly, her breathing had begun to even out and she was calming down. He brushed at the stray tear on her cheek, swiping it away with the pad of his thumb. She opened her eyes to look at him; she looked exhausted, as if she'd barely slept.

"Go back to sleep, baby," he whispered, and at the look of fear that appeared on her face, he was quick to continue speaking.

"I'll be right here," he promised in a low, reassuring tone. "I promise you, I won't move without waking you, okay? I'll be here."

Hesitantly, Elizabeth nodded and shifted herself ever-so-slightly closer to Henry. He held her tight and ran his fingers gently through her hair, untangling a small section. She closed her eyes and rested her hand on his chest.

"Stay," she mumbled, already half asleep. He looked down at her, and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Forever," he vowed, and as she fell asleep Henry knew he couldn't have meant it more if he'd tried.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Outtake three is a what-if: What if Henry had been injured overseas and needed to be evacuated early?**

It had been three months. Almost four months. Elizabeth didn't want to call it four months, at least not yet. She wasn't sure why exactly; she'd always been the kind of person to call a thing a thing, but this felt different somehow. She was washing dishes when the phone rang, and thinking of how quiet the house was now.

"Hello?" she said.

"Madam Secretary? The President is here."

Her blood ran cold at that; Conrad had come to her house three- almost four- months earlier to tell her that Henry was dead, and while Elizabeth couldn't imagine he could be there to deliver worse news, she still felt her heart pounding at the notion.

"I'll be right there," she said, instead of anything that was really on her mind, and dried her hands on a dishtowel before she headed into the entryway, steeling herself as she did so. She told herself that she could handle whatever it was that Conrad had to throw at her- if she'd made it three- almost four- months without Henry, she could take this too. She hoped.

"Mr. President," she said as he entered, her blue eyes searching his face for any sign of what was to come. He gave nothing away with his expression, however, as he nodded at her. He gestured to her office, and while she found that odd- for him to invite her into her own office- she followed and moments later, they were sitting across from one another while Secret Service agents stood opposite her own Diplomatic Security detail.

"Bess, there's something that I have to tell you," Conrad said. Elizabeth nodded slightly.

"Henry's alive," were the next words out of Conrad's mouth, rushed and quick as though he'd tried to come up with a better way to phrase it and had faileresprtorting to a bandaid strategy. Elizabeth just stared at him, uncomprehending.

"What?" she said. He repeated the exact same words, and this time Elizabeth found that hse was somewhat more able to process them. They were the exact opposite of the words he'd spoken to her three- almost four- months ago, and they contradicted everything she thought she'd known.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Conrad took a breath, looking uncomfortable.

"He's not dead, Bess. He's been on an assignment that I set him."

She took that in for a moment. Elizabeth was sharp, and bright. She always had been. And what Conrad was telling her didn't make sense. The assignment part, she could understand. Henry was incredibly duty-bound. If this was something only he could do, or even if he'd perceived it as such, he would have- reluctantly- agreed. If there were lives to be saved, which she didn't doubt there were, Henry would have gone. He would be wracked with guilt over it, yes, but he would have gone. What didn't make sense to her was why Conrad was telling her this now. If Henry was alive and the mission had gone the way it was supposed to, wouldn't Henry be there as well?

"Did something go wrong?" she asked evenly, and when Conrad swallowed hard, she knew she was right.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"He's going to be alright; he's been injured- shot- and he's just made it to DC about an hour ago," Conrad replied. Elizabeth's heart was pounding in her chest, beating out a rhythm akin to racing footsteps.

"I need to see him." She heard herself say it, as if the words were coming from another person entirely.

"Of course," Conrad answered. Elizabeth glanced up the stairs, where her children were. She didn't know the extent of any of it- not Henry's state of mind, his physical state, nothing. She didn't want to subject the kids to that- not yet.

"Give me a moment," she said, and headed silently up the stairs. She forced herself to maintain her composure as she checked in with each of her children to let them know she had something to attend to and would be back late. She ensured with each of them that they need not wait up for her and then headed back downstairs, attempting to prepare herself.

When Elizabeth walked into a cold, sterile hospital room less than an hour later, she was shaking. She'd utterly failed to prepare herself for seeing her husband again, the man she'd thought she would never lay eyes on again. He looked small, lying there in the hospital bed, but his chest rose and fell slowly and steadily and the sight nearly brought Elizabeth to her knees.

"Oh god, Henry," she breathed as she sat down in the chair beside his bed. She reached out, fingers trembling, and took his hand. The contact, his warm skin against hers, elicited a choked sob and Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her head against the mattress at his hip. She cried, her head spinning as she grasped his hand in her own. She could hardly believe that this was happening- that her husband was here in front of her after three- almost four- months of believing him to be dead. It was all so surreal, but she could barely even think about that in light of his injury and the worry that came alongside that. She thought of their children, at home still believing that Henry was dead, and her heart ached for them in spite of the fact that she knew she'd done the right thing. She needed to get it all worked out first, make sure that Henry was okay, and then she could tell them. Soon, she told herself.

Henry woke slowly, aware that he was not where he'd been the last time his eyes were open. Someone was holding his hand, and it felt warm and familiar, somehow, which didn't make much sense. He forced his eyes open, finding his vision blurry and unfocused at first and the light nearly blinding- but he'd caught a glimpse of light hair, familiar blonde curls and the shoulders clad in baby blue.

 _Elizabeth_ , that was the thought that rose to mind. But it couldn't be Elizabeth- he was halfway across the world from her, and she thought he was dead, and- wait.

He focused on the feeling of the hand in his and he could feel the cool metal of a ring against him. He thought he might have been deluded, but he would have bet his life just then that his wife was holding his hand. He wondered briefly if he was dead, but that made him feel panicky, so he pushed the thought aside and focused on trying to open his eyes enough to get a good look at her.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, had looked up at just the right moment to see her husband struggling to open his eyes. Her heart leapt in her chest and she squeezed his hand gently.

"Henry, baby, take it easy," she said soothingly. Henry's heart seemed to stumble in his chest. _Elizabeth._ He hadn't been certain before, but he was now. That was definitely Elizabeth- he could have picked her voice out of a crowd any day. He swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper, and tried again to open his eyes. Elizabeth reached for the light switch and the room darkened- Henry squeezed her hand gratefully and finally managed to blink his eyes open and look at her.

"Hey there," Elizabeth said quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn't have cared less. She just let them come, all gratitude in that moment to have him there, looking at her like that.

"Elizabeth," Henry managed, his voice scratchy with disuse and dryness.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Here."

He gladly took a sip from the straw she offered to him and felt the cool relief wash over his throat. She set it back down and returned to her place beside him, watching him anxiously. He shifted and drew in a sharp breath of pain. He squeezed her hand reflexively, and she reached out to run her fingers through his hair.

"Take it easy," she reminded him. "You're hurt, Henry. Just- don't move, okay?"

"What happened?" he asked. Elizabeth shook her head.

"I- I don't know," she admitted. "You were shot. That's all I can tell you."

"Where are we?" he asked.

"In DC," she answered. "Where were you before?"

"I don't- am I allowed to tell you that?" he asked uncertainly. Elizabeth shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know," she admitted. Henry looked bothered by it, working himself up over all the information he didn't have.

"Hey," she soothed. "Henry, don't worry about it right now, okay? We'll work it all out later."

He nodded slightly and looked over at her.

"Where are the kids?" he asked.

"Still at home," she replied. "I didn't- I didn't know what was going on, I didn't want to scare them."

"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry," he told her earnestly. He looked exhausted and thin, and the desperate way that his eyes met hers made her want to cry.

"Henry," she breathed, resting her hand on his cheek as she held his gaze. "Honey, it's okay," she assured him. "You're going to be okay, and that's all I could ever ask for. We'll work everything else out later, but for right now I'm just- I'm just really glad to see you."

Her voice broke and Henry reached out to tentatively run his hand through her hair.

"God, this is so surreal," she choked.

"I know," he said. She looked up, watching as tears made their way down his cheeks.

"Baby, don't cry," she said softly. "It's okay." Henry had been through so much- she didn't want to upset him any more than she needed to, at least not just then. She was certain he was in pain and exhausted, and she'd never seen him look more worn than he did right then.

"I didn't mean to-"

"I know," she assured him. "I know. It's alright. You don't need to worry about it right now. We're going to be okay." She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Sleep, darling," she urged. He glanced over at her, looking scared. Elizabeth was quick to reassure him. "I'll be right here, Henry, I promise."

"I feel bad even asking you not to leave," he admitted softly. "Because I did."

"Oh, Henry," she sighed. "Don't do that to yourself."

"How can I not?" he asked her, looking earnestly at her with his tired hazel eyes. She sighed, leaned in, and pressed her lips against his forehead, lingering there a moment longer than she normally might have.

"It's going to be okay, Henry. I promise."

He met her gaze and nodded slightly.

"Please stay," he whispered.

"Always," she replied, and then, her world still spinning on its axis, she sat back to watch Henry as he slept.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is an alternate version of the reunion scene, in which it ends up being Henry who falls apart more than Elizabeth.**

Behind the door to the Oval Office, Conrad Dalton turned to the man to his right. Henry swallowed hard. He felt as if his whole world was tilting on its axis, everything riding on this moment.

"Are you ready?" he asked. When he had received a nod in confirmation, he approached the door to Russell's office and opened it just enough to view Elizabeth, who was still eyeing

Russell anxiously.

"Hey, Bess," he said. "Can I speak to just you first?"

She glanced back at her kids, all standing there in Russell's office, and then nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You guys just...stay here, okay?" she instructed, receiving three silent nods in all were looking at her nervously, and as she watched, Stevie's eyes turned to Russell in fear.

"It's going to be fine, guys," she said. They nodded again, looking slightly placated. Elizabeth stepped through the door after him and pulled it closed behind her, and then she looked up. It was as if Elizabeth had forgotten how to breathe. Her husband stood before her, not only alive but safe and sound, breathing and staring at her with familiar hazel eyes. She was sure that her lungs had stopped working entirely as her heart hammered in her chest.

Henry, meanwhile, felt completely sick. All he could think of was getting to Elizabeth, yet he seemed rooted to the spot. He couldn't breathe any more than she could, and to his horror, his nausea seemed to be building.

"Elizabeth," he managed, but that was as far as he got. He turned away from her out of necessity and thankfully spotted a trash can nearby, dropping to his knees next to it. Elizabeth was at his side in an instant. Her mind was whirling- she had no idea how this was even possible, but Henry was throwing up into the President's trash can and as ridiculous as the whole situation was, all she could think of was being there for him. Her instincts had just taken over- there would be time for tears and everything else later. Right now, she needed to make sure that Henry was okay. Her heart was still racing, and she was barely breathing, but she knelt next to him and ran her hand over his shoulders, suppressing a shiver at the contact. She supposed that the natural reaction might have been to question whether it was real, but not for Elizabeth. While she was unsure how it happened, she was certain it was real. She would recognize Henry anywhere, and no one else could replicate the way her body was drawn to his or the way his voice washed over her in such a familiar way.

"Henry," she breathed, running her fingers through his hair as he vomited. It was not a pretty picture, but Elizabeth didn't care. The whole world could have been watching as far as she was concerned, and it wouldn't have mattered. Henry needed her, and that was all she could think or care about.

"It's okay," she soothed as she caught sight of the tears that were making their way down his cheeks while he continued to dry heave after his stomach was emptied. "It's okay, baby. I've got you. You're okay."

Henry seemed to have lost control of his body; he was panicking, and struggling for breath as his body attempted to rid itself of something that wasn't there. But elizabeth was at his side, and she was running her hand over his back soothingly, in such a warm and familiar way that Henry could have cried- or maybe he was crying? He was crying. _When had that happened?_

"Henry, honey, you've got to breathe," Elizabeth said softly. "Hey, can you hear me?"

He could hear the panicked edge in her voice and nodded his head quickly in answer to her.

"Okay, sweetheart, just try not to breathe so quickly, okay? Take it easy, just breathe slowly, alright? Can you do that for me?"

 _For her?_ He would have done anything, or died trying. He gasped and tried to exhale slowly, a ragged sob tearing air from his lungs.

"Slowly, babe," she reminded him gently. "Yeah, there you go. We're just breathing, okay? Nothing else right now. Just breathe."

He managed to catch his breath, his body calming under Elizabeth's familiar touch and his mind under her soothing voice. But his emotions were a mess, and his whole body continued to convulse with sobs after the dry heaving had ceased.

"Elizabeth," he sobbed. He reached out for her and she wrapped her arms around him, tears stinging her own eyes at the contact.

"I know," she said softly. "I'm here." He melted against her there on the floor of the office. Neither of them seemed to notice or care where they were. She took a slow breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her husband against her as he trembled in her arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Henry," she breathed.

"I know," he managed as he pulled her closer to him. "I wanted to be strong for you and now-"

"No," she argued, shaking her head against his. "It's okay. You're here, you're breathing, that's all that matters. It's okay, Henry. I've got everything I need right now."

He took a shuddering breath and she ran her hand over the back of his head, taking in every single sensation that she could, everything that told her he was alive and safe, there in her arms again. It was bizarre, but just then she didn't care. None of it mattered except that she had him home. Right then, she didn't care if she ever found out what happened. It was a direct contradiction of her nature, but then again, she wasn't sure she was at all the same person she'd been six months ago.

Except for one thing- she was absolutely and impossibly in love with Henry McCord. That, she was sure, could never be changed.

He clung to her, and she pulled away to look down at him, raking her eyes over him.

"Elizabeth," he gasped, reaching out for her as he mistakenly thought that she was attempting to put distance between them.

"I'm right here, baby," she assured him. She had no idea how she was keeping her cool, and later these moments would be a blur to her, but her voice calmed him. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him. "I just want to look at you, okay?" he nodded and she brushed his hair off of his forehead.

"You look exhausted, babe," she said quietly.

"I'm so sorry I left you," he sobbed. "I had to-"

"Shh," she soothed. "You don't need to explain right now, Henry. Just take it easy, okay?" she said. He buried his head against her and cried with abandon, and Elizabeth kissed his head, holding him a little bit more tightly as his fingers wrapped around her shirt. She wanted to fall apart too- she wanted to cry and scream and question everything. But some instinct had taken over her and all she could manage to do was to care for him.

"I love you," he said. "I love you so much, Elizabeth."

"I know, sweetheart," she managed through her own tears. She pulled back just slightly from him and caressed his cheek in her palm. "I love you, Henry. More than anything in the world."

Henry slowly took a deep breath; the nausea had dissipated, and he felt worlds better mentally with her in his arms. Now, he was just missing one thing.

"Are the kids with you?" he asked timidly. Elizabeth nodded.

"Are they okay?" he asked, sounding anxious. Elizabeth exhaled.

"They will be," she said. "Do you want to see them, Henry?"

"Can I?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course you can," she said. She surveyed him as she stood and held her hand out to him; he seemed so different and yet so much the same all at once. It was daunting to think about what they were facing, but Elizabeth pushed that out of her mind for the time being as she helped him to his feet. They looked at one another for a moment and Elizabeth laced her fingers with his as they silently faced the door, ready to face each step of the way the way they always had- together.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is based on "Henry and Elizabeth stop by the State Department".**

She'd called ahead. Her staff was raging with their typical rabid curiosity, which Elizabeth was finding rather endearing just then. She'd told them to all be in the conference room at 2 p.m., and now the only stares she and Henry were attracting as they made their way to her office were those of people who were too nervous to approach her. It was just as well; she was mostly there to tell her inner circle, anyway. In her office, Henry looked around.

"Everything's the same here too," he remarked. Elizabeth nodded with a wry smile.

"I know," she replied. "It was a whole thing."

She looked over at the closed door to the conference room and back at Henry.

"You stay here," she said. "I'll come get you in a minute." Henry nodded and Elizabeth shot him a smile as she slipped into the conference room, faced with the anxious expressions of her staff. Blake was watching her closely while the others tried to hide their nervousness.

"Alright, everyone," she said, clapping her hands together. "I'm sure you're all anxious to know why I've brought you here."

They all exchanged a look that told Elizabeth that she was exactly right.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Jay asked, and Elizabeth smiled.

"Yes," she replied. "In fact, it's better than alright."

They looked confused at that; Elizabeth, however, smiled calmly.

"I've got a guest in my office," she began, "and it's going to be a shock for all of you, so I wanted to come and prepare you first. Just- brace yourselves, alright?" she said gently. They all nodded as they looked uncertainly at one another. Elizabeth stepped back to the door and opened it, beckoning to Henry. He stepped into the room and everything seemed to go very still. Elizabeth glanced back at the members of her staff. Most of them were wide-eyed, and Blake looked very pale.

"Hi," Henry said, and elizabeth had to fight a bizarre urge to laugh.

"Oh my god," Daisy managed.

Her words seemed to elicit a reaction in the others. They all seemed to snap out of it a little bit as Henry wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, who was watching Blake to make sure he didn't collapse. He was clutching the arms of his chair and had not taken his eyes off of Henry.

"Blake, you doing okay?" Elizabeth asked.

"That's-" Blake turned to the others, his voice a little bit higher than usual. "Are you all seeing the same person I'm seeing?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Matt replied with barely a glance in Blake's direction.

"Ma'am?" Kat asked uncertainly.

"I know you're all shocked," Elizabeth began, ignoring the muttered 'you got that right' under Daisy's breath. "I was too," she continued. "Henry has been on assignment working closely with the president for the past six months. None of us knew."

"The President faked your husband's death and didn't tell you?" Kat asked. Elizabeth surveyed the shock on her policy advisor's face and nodded.

"Yes, which is another thing I want to discuss with you all today," Elizabeth answered. She hated this- the idea of what she was about to do. But at the same time, it gave her great peace. She knew it was absolutely and unequivocally the right decision. Finally recovering, and the first to do so, Jay stood and reached out his hand to Henry, who shook it gratefully.

"It's good to see you, Dr. McCord," he said, and Henry smiled at him.

"Likewise."

The others followed suit, and a few minutes later greetings were out of the way and all of them were gathered around the table together.

"I'm quitting."

Elizabeth thought it best to put things bluntly. Her staff stared at her, all of them looking surprised and upset.

"You're quitting?" Blake echoed. Elizabeth squeezed Henry's hand under the table and he returned the light pressure; they'd both known Blake's reaction would be the hardest of all for Elizabeth to weather.

"Yes," she answered evenly. "Henry and I have had to evaluate what this means for our family and we came to the conclusion that we can't afford to waste another second. That, and the fact that what the President did, which understandable, isn't something I can handle. I can't continue to work with him day after day knowing-"

She broke off and Henry turned to watch her as she collected herself, the room silent as they all waited for her to continue.

"It's what's best for us," she said with an air of finality.

The staff looked around at one another- none of them knew what this future was going to look like. They'd all weathered the loss of one boss, albeit a much more permanent kind of loss, and then they'd had Nadine to turn to. This time, it all felt somehow more untethered.

"We'll miss you," Blake said quietly. Elizabeth met his dark eyes and smiled slightly.

"You are all welcome to come and visit anytime," she said sincerely. "In fact, I intend to have you all over as soon as we're settled."

"Settled?" Matt repeated.

"We're going to be moving back to our place in Virginia," Henry replied. He glanced at Elizabeth. "It just feels like where we need to be right now, to kind of get back to who we are as a couple and as a family."

"Truly, you're all welcome there anytime," Elizabeth reiterated. She looked around at them all, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I want you all to know that I deeply appreciate each of you, and what you've brought to my life and my time as Secretary of State," she said. "I took a risk, bringing on my predecessor's staff the way I did- with the exception of two of you," she added with a smile for Kat and for Blake. "But it paid off," she continued, "because you all have been the best group I could have asked to have behind me for the last few years. I'm grateful to know each and every one of you." She smiled through her tears at Jay and Daisy. "As for you two, you better bring those babies out to see me, okay?"

There wasn't a dry eye as her final, lighthearted remark was met by watery laughter.

"When are you leaving?" Matt asked.

"I'll be going to see the President tomorrow," she answered. "And then I'll be back here sometime this week to tie things up."

She stood, signalling the end of more than just this meeting. Henry hung back as she hugged each of them, whispering private goodbyes to them all. Tears were streaming down most of their faces by the time Elizabeth took her place next to Henry once more. She squeezed his hand as she smiled at them all.

"Alright, get back to work," she instructed, and they all laughed as she turned away, smiling over her shoulder at them again.

Then, hand in hand, Henry and Elizabeth walked out of the room and onto the elevator, heading back home to the life that was waiting for them.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This was based on the idea of Elizabeth scrambling to fix Henry's clothes before he can see them all messed up when he gets home.**

Exhaustion washed over Elizabeth as the whole family- complete with Henry- stepped into the house. She was overwhelmed by a myriad of emotion at the idea that her husband was actually home with her and their children. Even with his hand in hers, she was having a hard time wrapping her head around it. He seemed to inexplicably sense it, as he glanced over at her and squeezed her hand as if to say I'm here. She marveled at that- that he could still read her so easily, as if it came as naturally to him as breathing. Which, Henry would have confirmed, it did. He could read Elizabeth like an open book, fluent in the language of her tells and the minute flickers of her expressions. Now, he took great comfort in that.

Elizabeth, toeing out of her shoes, suddenly had a thought. Panic rushed through her as she pictured the closet upstairs. She wasn't sure what had brought it to her mind, but now all she could think about were Henry's clothes, lying on the closet floor in a heap as they had been for the last month. She couldn't let him see them like that, and suddenly she was consumed by a panic-fueled desire to do something about it.

"I'll be back," she said, her words a rush coming out just a little too quickly. She forced herself to pull away from Henry, ignoring the additional panic that rose up within her at the loss of contact. Henry called for her, but she continued up the stairs. All she could see were those clothes. She couldn't let him see that. She had to fix them.

Downstairs, the McCord children looked at Henry uncertainly.

"I'm going to go and make sure she's okay," he told them, and was met with even more uncertainty. Henry paused in pursuit of his wife to hug them all, warm and tight and reassuring.

"It's all going to be okay, guys," he assured them softly. "Go and get ready for bed, okay? I'll come and check on you."

They all filed up the stairs, Henry included, and he hugged Stevie once more at the top of the steps before they all parted ways and henry set off into the master bedroom after Elizabeth. He heard her before he saw her, broken sobs and shuddering breath propelling him to move more quickly and reach her. She was kneeling on the closet floor, trying desperately to hang his clothes up, but her emotions seemed to have gotten the best of her. Henry wondered briefly why his clothing had all been on the floor- he'd expected it to either still be where he'd left it or to be gone entirely. She glimpsed him standing there and her movements became even more frantic.

"No," she said. "Henry, you can't- I was trying to-"

"Elizabeth," Henry said gently. He knelt next to her and she tried to push him away, but he carefully removed the garment from her hands and set it aside. She barely had the energy to resist and as soon as he tugged lightly at her shoulder to pull her towards him, she came at full force and threw herself against his chest. He caught her and held her close, shifting so that she was cradled in his lap there on the floor.

"I just wanted to fix it," she gasped. He rocked her back and forth and held her tight.

"I know, darling," he assured her. "I know. You don't need to."

"But all of your clothes have been on the floor and I didn't want you to think-"

She broke off forcefully, as if she had reminded herself to stop speaking.

"To think what?" Henry asked. She didn't respond.

"To think what, Elizabeth?" he pressed, his tone still exceedingly gentle.

"To think I didn't care," she admitted, and Henry shook his head, pulling her impossibly closer to him in some desire to protect her, though from what he couldn't say.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he breathed.

"I did," she sobbed. "I did care."

"Oh, honey, I know," he said emphatically. "I know. I never had any doubt that you did. That you do. This is...the clothes are not important, baby. You're here, with me, and the kids, and we're all together again. That's all that matters, okay? You took care of them, and yourself. That's all I needed you to do. You could have burned the clothes for all I care, okay? They don't mean anything."

She buried herself against him and clutched his shirt in her fist.

"I can't believe you're really here," she admitted in a whisper-quiet voice.

"I know," Henry said. "Me either, to be honest with you. But it's going to be okay. We're going to figure out. Just...not tonight."

Elizabeth turned and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him.

"I love you," she breathed in his ear and he held her just as tightly.

"I love you, too," he murmured reverently. "More than I could ever tell you."

They sat there in silence for a moment.

"Come on," Henry said. He gently extricated himself from her, but took her hand, never fully breaking physical contact. "Let's get to bed. We'll deal with this tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked doubtfully. Henry smiled, leaned in, and kissed her cheek.

"I've got everything I need," he promised her, and with that look in his hazel eyes, she couldn't help but believe him. Because the truth was, so did she.


	7. Chapter 7

**A conversation between Alison and Elizabeth, taking place after Alison speaks to Henry and expresses her concern that Henry and Elizabeth won't stay together.**

"Mom?"

Elizabeth glanced up at her middle daughter, who was hovering cautiously in the doorway, having caught Elizabeth away from Henry for the first time just by happenstance. Elizabeth could immediately tell that something was bothering her, that she was hesitant for some reason. She straightened up and turned fully to Alison.

"Hi, sweetheart, what's up?" she asked. Alison hesitated again, tugging at the sleeve of her knit sweater.

"I talked to Dad earlier," she began.

"Yeah," Elizabeth replied encouragingly. "How did that go?"

"It was okay," Alison answered.

"But?" Elizabeth prompted gently, and her daughter sighed.

"I asked him if you guys are going to stay together," she admitted. Alison watched her mother closely, unaware that Elizabeth's blood had run cold at that statement. It had not occurred to her even once to leave Henry, or that this whole ordeal could result in such an outcome. However, it was clear that her daughter had and now all Elizabeth could think of was how Henry had responded. It hadn't entered her mind to wonder, but now...she found herself wondering if Henry had.

"What did Dad say?" she asked as calmly as she possibly could.

"He said he had no reason not to think you would," Alison admitted, and Elizabeth could feel a certain amount of relief from that. Yet, he hadn't given their daughter a yes, and she couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

Alison looked at her, all wide dark eyes and looking ten times as innocent as her age might have suggested. Elizabeth was reminded forcefully of baby Alison, who had been shy and soft and small. She'd grown into such a beautiful, strong young woman, and yet right then she may as well have still been a four-year-old hiding behind her parents and refusing to go into preschool.

"Are you going to leave him because of what he did?" Alison asked, and Elizabeth stared at her.

"Oh, Alison," Elizabeth sighed. She shook her head.

"No," she said forcefully. "I- I have to admit that we haven't had a chance to talk and I have no idea where your dad stands on this right now, but I would do anything to keep this family together. It would never have occurred to me if you hadn't said this to me just now."

Alison nodded, but she still looked hesitant and cautious.

Elizabeth reached out to her and pulled her in close, hugging her warmly, tightly, with every ounce of the motherly love that she possessed. Her heart was breaking at the idea that, in the midst of the grief and the shock and everything they'd been through, their daughter was using her energy worrying over the fate of her parents' marriage on top of it all.

"Alison, sweetheart, I want you to hear me right now," she said softly. Alison nodded silently against her, a clear nonverbal message; I'm listening.

"Everything is going to be okay," Elizabeth assured her. "No matter what happens. I'm pretty sure that Dad and I are going to be fine. I'm certainly not letting him go anywhere without a fight, and even though we have a lot to work through, I believe in us. But even if something were to happen, you still have two parents who adore you, and two siblings to lean on, and everything is going to be okay. This is the easy part. You made it through those six months, Ali, and look how it all turned out."

"I am really happy that Dad's home," she mumbled. Elizabeth nodded and kissed Alison's head.

"Me too, sweet girl," she breathed. She pulled back to look at Alison and tenderly wiped tears from her daughter's face before meeting her gaze.

"I love you so, so much," Elizabeth said.

"I love you too, Mom," Alison answered. They looked at one another for a moment, and then Elizabeth kissed her daughter's forehead.

"Everything is going to be okay," she whispered, and then, with a final smile for Alison, Elizabeth headed back to the kitchen to be with Henry. The time to talk would come, and soon. But for now, she would take her own advice, breathe, and remember that everything would be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I know this is a stretch, and I normally don't like the idea of Elizabeth and Henry getting pregnant again once she's secretary of state but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so this is based on the idea that Elizabeth was pregnant when Henry left for his mission and didn't know it yet.**

The pregnancy had come as a shock to Elizabeth. She'd been exhausted even before Henry had left, and recalled a bout of nausea that had lasted about a week or two, maybe three weeks before Henry's death. Neither of them had ever thought about a pregnancy as an option, though. Not until at least two weeks after Henry's death, when Elizabeth looked in the mirror for the first time and realized that something was different. And then her mind had started racing, and the pieces had fallen into place and by that evening she was sitting in her master bathroom with a strip of ultrasound photos in her hand.

The pregnancy had been her most difficult; she'd never gone back to work at the State Department, because by the time she was ready emotionally, she'd been put on bed rest. The kids had handled it better than Elizabeth had expected, but she herself had been a wreck. She couldn't imagine raising a child without Henry, let alone at her age. At the same time, she couldn't imagine not loving this little piece of both of them unconditionally. Her body had not held up as well with McCord baby number four as it had with the first three. Some combination of her emotional stress and her age had resulted in near-constant discomfort from the time the pregnancy became apparent. She'd already been nearly four months along by that point, which had left her with little time to prepare. Her entire third trimester, she'd been plagued by Braxton Hicks contractions that left her on edge and worried, not to mention in pain. More than once, Elizabeth had broken down in tears at the idea of how overwhelming it all was, to do it without Henry.

And then, three weeks early and delivered in a whirlwind, Vivienne Elizabeth McCord had made her appearance in the world, named after Elizabeth's own grandmother and with her mother's name as her middle name- Elizabeth had never considered anything else, because Henry had wanted each of their older girls to carry her name, and she had refused both times. She was still not a fan of it at all, but she knew that Henry would have wanted it that way, and that gave her a little bit of peace. Vivienne had her father's hazel eyes and her mother's light hair, and she was a wonder, a mix of Henry and Elizabeth that had Elizabeth catching her breath every time she looked at her. Stevie was particularly good with her, and Elizabeth wasn't sure how she would have gotten through Vivienne's earliest days without her elder children, all of whom were helpful and seemed to suddenly possess forgiveness and gentleness in spades. They all missed Henry deeply, and Elizabeth wished more than anything that Henry could have met their little surprise baby, but they were coping.

Now, little Vivienne slept peacefully upstairs as Elizabeth lunged for the landline to silence it as it started to ring so that it wouldn't wake Vivienne.

"Hello?" she said.

"We have the President and Russell Jackson here for you, ma'am," came the voice on the other line, their words taking Elizabeth by surprise. The President had been incredibly gracious with her throughout the whole process; in fact, had her life not been so hectic, it might have struck Elizabeth as odd. Why he and Russell Jackson would be visiting her at home out of the blue, however, Elizabeth had no clue.

"Send them in," she said, and when she opened the door, she was faced with two nervous-looking men. She was on edge; what this could be about, she didn't know, but she'd never seen either of them look this way before.

Pleasantries were exchanged, and then they were all sitting in the living room, and Elizabeth looked expectantly between them.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Elizabeth," the President began. "I have some news for you."

"Okay."

"Henry has been on a very secret mission for the last six months, and now he's home," Conrad said. Elizabeth felt as if all the breath had left her lungs at those words, her eyes darting between Russell and Conrad. Conrad nodded at Russell, who silently stood, though Elizabeth even in her stunned state didn't miss the glare on his face in Conrad's direction. All Elizabeth could think of was Henry, and Vivienne. The other children weren't home yet, but she was pretty sure her presumed dead husband was about to walk into her house and she was also pretty sure he didn't know that he was father to a newborn.

"Does he know?" she asked, choosing to set aside her own anger for the time being. She met the President's eyes, and he shook his head. Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head.

"How am I even supposed to react?" she asked rhetorically.

"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry we had to put you through this," Conrad said, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"No," she said sharply. "I can't deal with that right now."

Conrad nodded slightly, chastised by her tone.

"Elizabeth."

Her heart raced at the sound of Henry's voice, and she whirled around to see a thin and exhausted Henry McCord standing before her. Tears sprang to her eyes and she was in his arms in seconds. She wondered vaguely if he could tell that her body was different now than it had been six months earlier, but if he did he gave no indication.

"Henry," she breathed.

"I'm so sorry," Henry whispered through his tears as he held her. She was overwhelmed with emotion, but for the moment all she could take in was Henry; warm and familiar and miraculously _home_. Her life had turned into a bad soap opera, but in that moment Elizabeth couldn't have cared less.

"No," she said gently. "It's okay, Henry. It's okay."

"Where are the kids?" Henry managed; he'd been thinking of them just as much as he had Elizabeth in his absence. As if on cue, the baby monitor that Henry had failed to notice crackled to life with the sound of a crying Vivienne, and Elizabeth felt Henry stiffen as he looked around in confusion. Elizabeth took a breath, took Henry's hand, and pulled him silently behind her as she ascended the stairs. Henry, in total confusion, followed Elizabeth into what he remembered being Stevie's bedroom. It was different now, the once-cream walls painted a pale baby pink and it had been transformed into a nursery. He stood rooted to the spot in the doorway, vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing as the President left, as Elizabeth approached the bassinet and lifted a tiny infant from its depths, cradling the baby against her.

"Elizabeth?" Henry asked, his voice shaking. "What's going on?"

"Henry," Elizabeth said gently. "There's no easy way to say this." She met his gaze, and then looked down at the now-quiet infant in her arms. She stepped closer to Henry and looked at him again.

"I want you to meet your daughter," she said, and her voice shook too. "Vivienne Elizabeth McCord. She's six weeks old."

Henry stared at her in shock. He'd expected a lot of adjusting once he got home, but this? No. Never this.

"I didn't find out until about two weeks after...you know," Elizabeth said awkwardly.

"I-I don't know what to say," Henry admitted, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the baby in his wife's arms, with her wisps of light hair.

"Um, do you want to hold her?" Elizabeth asked. Henry hesitated for a second, but nodded and held out his hands to take the baby. Elizabeth handed her over, warm and heavy and wrapped in a pale pink blanket. She looked up at Henry and met his eyes, hazel on hazel, and Elizabeth watched Henry's fill with tears.

"She's incredible," Henry choked, and Elizabeth nodded.

"Yeah, she is," she agreed. The two of them locked eyes again, Henry tearing his gaze away from Vivienne.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," he said again.

"Don't be," she replied. "Everything is going to be different now, but…" she shrugged her shoulders. "We're together, all of us. That's all that really matters."

Henry nodded, and looked down at the baby again.

"Of all the things I thought I'd be coming home to, this was...not even near my list," he said, and Elizabeth smiled slightly.

"Mine either," she admitted. He smiled slightly up at her.

"You named her Vivienne Elizabeth," he remarked, and Elizabeth scoffed.

"Yeah, because I was hormonal and I thought you were dead," she shot back at him, and Henry laughed for the first time in six months. And in that moment, holding his baby daughter and looking over at Elizabeth, the road in front of them didn't matter. In that moment, he was pretty sure that everything was going to be okay.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Russell shows up at the McCord house a few days after Henry's return, wanting to make it clear that he was against the plan from the start.**

Russell Jackson liked to keep to himself. He didn't like to reach out to people, and he certainly didn't like to put himself in vulnerable positions. That, however, was exactly what he was doing on that cold December day, drawing his wool coat closer to him as he stood before the McCord family's Georgetown home. He bore no casserole dish this time, as he approached the door and took a breath.

Inside the house, the phone rang and Elizabeth answered. The landline only rang when her security detail was alerting her to the presence of someone outside the house, and now she wondered who could possibly be there. She was already formulating a plan in her head; Henry had only been home for a couple of days, and they weren't ready to announce that to the world. She was running scenarios in her head, but then the security guard informed her that Russell Jackson was outside, she ceased her attempts to map out a plan and curiously headed toward the door. She glanced up the stairs and found Henry hovering cautiously there.

"Russell Jackson," she informed him, and he visibly relaxed, though he looked as puzzled as she felt. He descended the stairs, coming to stand behind Elizabeth as she opened the door. Russell stood on the other side, his eyes moving from Elizabeth, to Henry, and then back again.

"Russell," Elizabeth said. "What brings you here?"

She tried to keep the hostile notes from her tone, but she wasn't doing a fantastic job of it. Russell, though he picked up on that, ignored it and cleared his throat.

"I wanted to stop by and see how you were all getting along," he said. "Can I come in?"

Elizabeth glanced back at Henry, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and then she stepped aside for Russell. He came inside and held his hand out to Henry.

"Russell," Henry said, and Russell nodded as they shook hands.

"Henry," he replied. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," Henry answered politely; Elizabeth thought to herself that she probably wouldn't have been so nice if she were in Henry's position, but she didn't say as much. She just gestured Russell to the living room and sat down opposite him, next to Henry.

"So," Russell began awkwardly. "How are you?"

"You knew," Elizabeth said instead of answering the question. She met Russell's eyes across the space between them, and she could feel Henry's gaze on her, darting back and forth from her to Russell. She held Russell's gaze, not backing down.

"Not at first," Russell told her. "Not when I came to see you."

"You came to see her?" Henry heard himself ask. He was still adjusting to just how much he had missed in six months. Russell glanced very briefly in Henry's direction as he nodded.

"Yes, and my condolences were sincere," Russell answered, now looking back at Elizabeth. "I didn't find out until after that."

"And then what?" Elizabeth asked, leaning forward slightly. Henry watched her cautiously; he was all too familiar with that stance, and not particularly fond of the idea of being in her line of fire, just in case.

"And then I told the President that he needed to tell you," Russell answered calmly. Elizabeth couldn't keep the surprise off of her face at that.

"You did?" she asked.

"Yes," Russell answered, glancing between Henry and Elizabeth. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, suddenly looking less strong and put together. Softer, and somehow more worn.

"Look," he began, "that's why I came here today. You both have every right to be angry at the President and at me for that matter, but I selfishly wanted you to have the whole story." He shook his head, and then looked at Henry and Elizabeth again.

"What he did to you both was wrong," Russell began. "I've done a lot of thinking on it, and- well, I know I'm sort of known for my lack of moral compass, but-" he gave a harsh, mirthless laugh "-even this was too far for me." He looked up at Elizabeth, held her gaze for a moment, and then did the same with Henry.

"I just wanted you to know that I was against it from the moment I heard about it, and I wanted to tell you, Elizabeth." He shook his head. "The President said no, of course, and- what could I do?"

Elizabeth regarded him in the quiet for a moment. Then she nodded slightly.

"Thank you for coming, Russell," she said quietly, and there was some level of silent understanding that passed between she and the President's Chief of Staff. Henry couldn't read either of them in that moment, but he thought perhaps he didn't really need to, because the two of them seemed to understand each other perfectly.

"I'll get that dish back to you and Carol," elizabeth said, and while Henry didn't ahve a clue what that meant on the surface, let alone the subtext, Russell nodded, and then they all stood.

"Henry," Russell said, shaking his hand unnecessarily again as he began to take his leave. "I'm glad you made it home safely."

"Thank you, Russell," Henry said, and Russell held his gaze for a moment before he nodded and then he was gone, leaving Henry and Elizabeth alone once more. As Elizabeth closed the door, she turned to Henry and wrapped her arms around him silently. Neither of them spoke, and it struck Henry again that again, no words were needed.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This wouldn't leave me alone so this is a continuation of an AU of an AU of a fictional universe. What is happening to my life. (read the outtake from two chapters ago first if you haven't yet)**

Henry sat in the nursery, pink walls on all sides and early morning sunshine filtering in through the sheer curtains. He looked down into the bassinet, little Vivienne sleeping soundly in front of him. Her long eyelashes fluttered ever-so-slightly in her sleep, stray tufts of her light hair sticking up at odd angles along the side of her head. She was a perfect blend of her parents, more equal than any of her older siblings were. Henry reflected now on the way said children had responded to his homecoming. There had been shock and concern and worry and fear; there had also been no shortage of anger and protectiveness, of both Elizabeth and Vivienne and on the part of all three of the kids. They seemed to have banded together in Henry's absence to support their mother, and while Henry was glad and grateful and proud, he wasn't sure how to cross that bridge back to them. Elizabeth had assured him that they would come around, but Henry still had his doubts and fear in spades; he didn't know what he would do if he lost his relationship with them entirely.

Vivienne, on the other hand...that was like a clean slate. He felt enormous guilt for having not been there for Elizabeth during her pregnancy and Vivienne's earliest days, but she was still very young and Henry found it strangely comforting that when Vivienne grew up, she would never remember what he'd done or the days in which he hadn't been around for her. It was exactly those thoughts which had driven him away from a still-sleeping Elizabeth into the nursery in the very early hours of the morning, on his second day home. He'd not spent a lot of time with Vivienne, though that was not because he hadn't wanted to, but rather because his elder children and Elizabeth had a well-established routine that Henry no longer fit into. As much as their surprise baby was a blessing, Henry thought it might have been easier to fit back into his life had Vivienne not come along; the routine of what had to be done in the McCord house had changed drastically in the six months that Henry had been gone, out of necessity, and now he didn't know where he could be helpful and where he would be a hindrance. This was different, though. In the early morning quiet of the baby's room, with no distrustful looks in his direction or concern from Elizabeth, Henry could think more clearly. He marveled at his baby daughter's tiny fingers and the smooth texture of her skin and the soft way that her hair rested on her head. He'd forgotten what it was like to stand there and gaze down at that little human that was a part of him, and a part of Elizabeth- that fragile new life with the world spread out at her feet. It made him choked up just to look down at her, knowing that she was there, living and breathing and bringing with her all that she had, to his family. To her family.

As he watched, Vivienne stirred and woke; Henry scooped her up into his arms and cradled her close, and as she blinked up at him, bright-eyed and alert, he felt his breath catch.

"Hi, sweet girl," Henry breathed. Vivienne just watched him calmly as he set her down on the changing table and quickly changed her; it was sort of like riding a bike, Henry discovered, all the skill coming back to him after three kids and the intervening years.

Four kids, now.

He was still getting used to that.

Vivienne started to squirm just before Henry picked her up. Wrapped snugly in blankets and snuggled against Henry's chest, Vivienne just watched him with her hazel eyes, and Henry sighed as he settled down in the rocking chair in the corner. It was very familiar, and Henry wondered where Elizabeth had found it- he had been sure they'd gotten rid of it after Jason started school. Now, he just leaned back and rocked Vivienne slowly.

"You know," he began softly, "you are a much happier baby than your brother and your sisters were." He rested his finger against her palm and watched her tiny fingers curl around his own, his throat tightening at the feeling. He almost couldn't believe it; that he'd come home to this gorgeous creature, that he was a Dad again, that Vivienne Elizabeth was a part of their lives now. That he was a part of hers.

"But," he continued, "I heard you gave Mama a lot of trouble before you got here, yeah?" He sighed as Vivienne continued to watch him. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for that," he whispered. "But you know what?"

Vivienne blinked up at him.

"I'm gonna be here for everything else," Henry vowed. "For you and for Mama, and for your sisters and your brother. Daddy saved some people when he was gone, but…" Henry sighed again, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know if it was worth it, little girl. What do you think? You think your big sisters and brother are ever going to forgive me for it?"

"Yeah," came a voice from the doorway, startling Henry. He looked up to find Stevie leaning against the doorframe. She pushed off of it and knelt next to the rocking chair, smoothing her slender fingers over Vivienne's silky hair. Henry watched her interact with Vivienne, marveling at his eldest and youngest children. He could have cried just looking at them.

"Yeah?" he repeated instead, his voice a little bit shaky. And then Stevie looked up, studying him for a moment, something soft and familiar in her blue eyes as she smiled just a little sadly at him.

"Yeah," she repeated. "We will." She stood, leaned over, and kissed the top of Henry's head.

"You might want to take her to Mom," Stevie suggested as she turned to leave. "You've got approximately three minutes before she starts screaming."

"Really?" Henry asked, looking down at the extremely calm baby in his arms. Stevie chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, she looks fine now, but believe me. It comes out of nowhere."

And then Stevie was gone, and Henry was thinking that maybe everything was going to turn out alright.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I think this is going to be my last oneshot about Vivienne (probably?) but anyway here we are.**

"Dad?"

Henry looked up mildly from his book, observing his eleven year old daughter over his glasses as Vivienne looked inquisitively at him. Her blonde hair framed her face, still every bit a perfect, beautiful mix of her mother and father. Eleven years after Henry had first met her, Vivienne was every bit as smart, savvy, and sharp as her siblings. She was also kind-hearted and had a soft spot for animals of every kind, and she had taken after Elizabeth in many ways, not least of which was her love for horseback riding. As much of a surprise as she had been, and as tumutuous as her infancy had been for their family, they all loved her endlessly, and Henry couldn't imagine their lives without her.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he asked her now.

"Can I ask you a question?" Vivienne inquired, sounding somewhat hesitant.

"Of course," Henry answered, tugging at the frames of his glasses until they were free of his face so that he could look over at Vivienne and give her his full attention. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, and swallowed.

"You know how you weren't here when I was born?" she asked, and Henry forced himself to remain calm, nodding his head.

"Yeah," he answered, still unsure where she was going with this line of questioning.

"Why?" she asked, and Henry's heart fell at that. He'd hoped that she wouldn't come to him with that exact question, and now that she was looking back at him with eyes that were so like his, he could barely breathe. How was he supposed to explain to Vivienne why he hadn't been there for her like he had been for Stevie, Alison, and Jason? Why he hadn't been there for her earliest days or to welcome her to the world? What had been so important that he had missed all of that? And how could he justify it to her when he'd spent all the time since telling her how important she was to him?

"Because the President had asked me to take a mission in the middle east," Henry answered. Vivienne seemed to think about that for a second.

"But why did you take it?" she asked. Henry sighed.

"We didn't know that your mom was pregnant with you when I left," Henry began, "and I felt a duty to my country. It wasn't a decision that was easy for me, or one that I made lightly."

Vivienne was quiet for a moment.

"But even if you didn't know about me, you were still leaving Mom and Stevie and Ali and Jason," she remarked. Henry swallowed hard and nodded.

"I know," he replied. It had been some time since he'd reflected on those six months. It had taken them all a long time to heal from that and now he didn't like to think about it much- now, however, Vivienne was all but forcing him to face those actions all over again.

"So why did you do it? Why was it more important to do that than to be here?" she asked.

Henry sighed. "Truthfully, it wasn't."

"It wasn't more important?"

"No," Henry said. "It wasn't. But at the time I thought that it was. I thought I had a responsibility to help, and I did help. I saved lives. But no, it wasn't more important. I made a mistake when I went instead of staying here, and I'm very lucky that when I got back your mom and your siblings were much kinder than I deserved for them to be." He sighed and leaned forward. "Vivi, I've been trying to make up for that for your entire life, and I will be until the day that I die. But at the same time, everyone does things that they look back and can't even wrap their heads around doing."

Vivienne sat back and there was silence as she seemed to take it all in. Henry waited with bated breath.

"I'm kinda mad at you for it," Vivienne admitted. "But I talked to Stevie about it. And she said that I should consider that you thought you were doing what you had to do."

Henry sent a silent thanks for his eldest child and her relationship with Vivienne.

"So," Vivienne said. "I guess I'm just going to be mad for a little while." She looked up at him, hesitant and childlike.

"Do you think that's okay, to be kind of mad for a little while?" she asked. Henry nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said. "I think that's okay."

"Okay," Vivienne said, and then she stood and walked away, but stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, something about her incredibly like Elizabeth in that moment.

"I love you, Dad," she said, and then she was gone before Henry had a chance to answer.

"I love you too, Vivi," he whispered into the now-empty room, thanking his stars for the millionth time for the gift that was Vivienne.


End file.
